Page 33 of Sins Of Her Sister

“Fuck, Ryan! Yes, fuck me!” Layla moans loudly, squirming around my head. She's getting so wet, her arousal is all over my face. I crook my finger inside of her pussy, hitting her g-spot as I feel her walls convulsing.

“Come for me, little angel. I want you to soak my face, baby…” I moan into her pussy, sucking her clit as I rub my own. It doesn't take long before I'm right on the edge with her.

“Fuck, Ry! I'm gonna come…” Layla moans, bucking her hips. She’s tenses underneath me and I'm coming all over my underwear as she comes in my mouth. I don’t stop eating her, as we come down from our high. When I finally come up from between her legs, she has a lazy smile on her face. Helping her up, I kiss her and force my tongue into her mouth so she can taste herself. She holds onto my waist and dives deeper into our kiss, moaning into my mouth. When we break apart, I look at her.

“You're mine now. I'm not sharing you,” I say and mean every word of it.

“There's no going back.” She says, kissing my cheek and does a double take at the television screen.

“Oh my God, turn it up!” Layla screeches. I finally turn to see what has her riled up and a picture of Carson is on the news. I quickly push the unmute button on the remote.

Newsreporter:"Carson King's body was found burned in his home last night at 8:00 pm. Neighbors called authorities when they found the house in flames. Firetrucks and ambulances were dispatched to the scene. The body was found in the basement of the house after the fire was safely put out. At this time, the body is being sent for an autopsy. The police suspect foul play. If anyone has any information on how this fire may have occurred, please call your local police station.”

I turn the volume back down. Layla is trembling and her face has gone pale. “Hey, you're okay. It's okay. Were you with Carson yesterday?” I ask softly. Layla turns to look at me, worry and confusion on her face.

“I remember being at the school with him, but that's it,” she whispers, her lip trembling. I gather her in my arms and hold her.

“Layla, do you remember me and Blaze picking you upyesterday?” I ask. She looks up at me, her eyes wide.

“No. I don't remember that at all.” She’s afraid. Tears form in her eyes, and I know she's telling the truth. I rub the nape of her neck and hold her tightly to me.

“Shh…shh…little angel. It's all going to be okay. We will figure this out.” Layla clings to me like I'm her lifeline as she sobs into my shoulder. I have no clue what's going on, but if Layla goes through hell, I'm going through with her.

Chapter 19

Layla

It's Thursday when school goes back in session. Mr. Scott’s classroom is back to normal, no one can tell that two people were murdered there. After the hot sex with Ryan yesterday, we lounged around, cuddling and watching TV. It was weird, but the most relaxed I've been in a while. That was until her dad came home and she hurried to her room. Didn't say anything—just froze up and scurried off. I know they dont have the best relationship, but I've never seen her like that before.

Heading to my first class, I wonder who the new teacher will be. Mr. Scott was one of the nicest teachers we had and I don't see us getting anyone better than that. I take a seat in the back like I usually do. It's been lonely since Julie’s gone missing and I have no one to talk to. What she did was fucked up, but she was still my best friend.

An older lady with red lipstick and caked on makeup walks into the class, wearing a gray pencil skirt, a hunter-green blouse with ruffles in the front, and a pair of black stiletto heels. Her hair is pinned half up and a pair of black glasses sit on her face. If we're being honest, she reminds me of those porn stars who do roleplay. Her heels click across the floor as she walks to her desk.

“Alright, class. Attention, please. I'm Mrs. Davis. I'll be your new teacher for the foreseeable future. Sit down, listen, don't disrupt my class, and we should have no problems. Now, I have a new assignment for you,” sheannounces. A skinny, blonde girl named Bethany, raises her hand and speaks up.

“I thought we were supposed to be working on our senior essay?” she asks.

“Yes. You will do that on your own time, but while you're in this classroom, you'll do what I tell you,” Mrs. Davis snaps. Bethany's face turns as red as a tomato and I feel bad for her. Our new teacher is starting off strong.

“Now as I was saying before I was interrupted, for your first assignment, I want a one-thousand word essay on the importance of mental health. It will be due next Friday. I want resources cited in the back. There should be plenty of facts to back up your findings.” She looks at the class and we are all looking at each other. “Did I stutter? Get to work!” she snaps as everyone scrambles to get a class laptop and start their research. This is going to be an even longer school year.

It's our fourth period and we’ve just gotten back from our lunch break when the intercom comes on.

“Layla Thomas, please come to the office.” The whole class spews oohs like we’re in elementary school. I grab my stuff and hurry out of class.

There are two officers standing there waiting for me as I walk into the office. One is short and stocky with a head full of black hair, while the other is tall and lanky with a head full of red hair. Suddenly, I'm feeling nervous and sweat gathers at my forehead. I've never gotten into trouble before, especially with the law.

“Miss Thomas, I'm Officer Smith and this is Officer Rollins. Can we speak with you for a moment?” Office Smith asks. I nod and they gesture toward the headmaster’s office.

After I take a seat, the stocky Officer Rollins stands in front of me while the other stands at my side. Headmaster Jones sits in his chair, arms resting atop his desk.

“Layla, these officers have a few questions they would like to ask you. You're not in trouble, so don't worry.” I swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

“Miss Thomas, is it true that Carson King was your boyfriend?” an officer asks. I swallow the vomit trying to build its way up.

“Yes, we’re dating…were dating,” I reply.

“When was the last time you saw Carson King?” he follows with another question. I try to retrace my memory, but I can only remember leaving school when it shut down on Monday. My mind goes blank after that. It's been days and I still can't remember a damn thing. Someone clears their throat and shakes me from my daze. All three men are looking at me impatiently.

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